Through Rose-Colored Glasses
by valkyrie12310
Summary: A short FrUK fic. Arthur Kirkland, owner of a florist shop, is absolutely done with that Frog. Who does he think he is to come in and buy a rose to give to Arthur everyday? This has got to end!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer-Let's be honest here. Hetalia isn't and probably will never be mine. Sadly. If it did, there would be a lot more FrUK. XD

In all honesty, Arthur Kirkland didn't know whether to be flattered by the the damn Frog or annoyed. Every single day, the wanker would prance into Arthur's flower shop and buy a rose. One red Hybrid Tea Rose. And then, that self-conceited twat would give that rose to Arthur. Every time, Arthur would tell him to sod off, but the Frog would laugh and give him the rose.

Arthur chose to be annoyed. Today, he was going to bloody tell Francis off. The door to his store opened, the bell chiming. "Bonjour!" Speak of the devil.

Francis Bonnefoy was, truthfully, not bad looking. He had long blond hair that he always tied back with a ribbon that matched his outfit, lilac today. He had blue eyes, like the sky, Arthur's traitorous mind supplied.

"Bugger off Frog." Arthur scowled and continued to arrange the bouquet of English Roses he had started on earlier that morning.

"Ohonhon, is that anyway to treat a customer?" Francis leaned across the counter. Did that tosser not have any bloody concept of personal space? Oh wait, he's French. Duh.

"I'm sorry, but we don't serve Frogs." Arthur stated while cutting the stems of the roses, "And before you even ask, I don't want your damn rose."

"Well, I wasn't going to give you one today, mon lapin." Arthur looked up, surprised, only to find that Francis was much, much too close to his face for his liking. "Wha-"

Francis bloody fucking _kissed_ him. Rather well. Francis had incredibly soft and smooth lips. And they seemed like they were built to be on Arthur's own lips. Arthur was suddenly very aware of the warm hand, the Frog's warm hand, drawing small circles on his neck.

Then, Francis's tongue was in his mouth, and the hand was temporarily forgotten. The tosser's skillful tongue gently mapped out Arthur's mouth in gliding sweeps. Tsk, French.

Arthur pushed forwards, not willing to be dominated, Francis or not. The passion of the kiss soon elevated. Arthur let out a low breathy moan, and then quickly stopped himself. Goddamn it, he was not aroused by the damn Frog.

After what seemed like eternity and at the same time a second, they parted. Arthur became acutely aware that his hair was tousled and his sweater vest was crooked, and he had just bloody fucking _kissed_ Francis Bonnefoy.

Francis, seeming to know what Arthur was thinking, smirked. He stepped back and took a mock bow. "Au Revoir," He said, still grinning as he walked out the door. The bell chimed behind him.

For a few seconds, Arthur could only stare. Then, "Frog! Come back here! You can't just enter my shop and not buy anything!"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- I do not own Hetalia in any way or form. If I did, there would be way more canon relationships. Yada yada. Usual stuff  
Note- This fic doesn't contain explicit material, but it does contain curse words and French. You have been warned. *dramatic music*

* * *

Arthur aggressively flipped the "open" sign on his door to "closed". He had been stewing all day about what that _bloody_ Frog did. How dare him! Arthur flipped the lights off and slammed the poor door of his florist shop shut behind him. It took him a few sodding tries to lock the door as he was literally shaking with anger.

Arthur paused and took a few deep breaths. "Ok, get a hold of yourself Arthur. I know that tosser is a pain in the arse, but get it together," He flicked out a pack of fags*, took one out, and lit it with his Union Jack lighter, "I need a bloody coffee." A tea would be nice, but he really, really needed some soothing caffeine. Arthur pulled out an old pocket watch. 8:00 pm. His favorite coffee shop already closed, goddamn it. Arthur sighed. He would have to go to that Starbucks. At least it was close to his home.  
When he got to the generic coffee shop, it was empty except for a lone employee cleaning the counter. Arthur pushed open the door, an annoying bell chime announcing his arrival. The employee turned around, "Welcome to Starbucks! How can I-"

"What are you doing here, you fucking wanker!" Arthur stared at the cause of all his tension currently wearing a green apron.

"Well, I work here, mon lapit. What would you like to order?"

Arthur stared some more. "A small cup of light roast coffee," He finally ground out.

"Of course, of course," Francis smiled, grabbing a paper cup and turning around to prepare Arthur's drink, "Here you go, one tall blonde."

"What?" Arthur's expression must had been hilarious because Francis giggled. "Oh, mon ange, that's what we call it here. Be sure to come again."

Arthur snatched the cup out of Francis' hand, grumbling, "Not in my lifetime, Frog. Sod off." He walked out sipping at his coffee, black like his damned soul. When he had walked a block and a half, he finally noticed. "You bloody fucking Frog!" A few nearby pigeons scattered in alarm at his sudden outburst, and a homeless guy gave him a weird look.

The sodding twat had written "Artie" on the cup. In looping cursive. And with a little heart dotting the i. How dare him! Arthur mentally swore never to go to that damn Starbucks again.

(MotherTrucking Time-skip)

"Hello! Welcome to Starbucks! How can I help you today, mon lapin?" Francis smirked smugly.

"A tall blonde," Arthur said, internally screaming. He had woken up late and tired. He blamed it entirely on the Frog. He need caffeine and he needed it fast. So here he was. And Arthur was seriously regretting it.

"Here you go!" Francis held out his hand.

"What?" Arthur blinked.

"One tall blonde," Francis said smirking, "Although I know some people who would argue about the tall part."

Arthur gaped at him. "I-I… Fuck off, twat!"

"Francis pouted, "Now that's not very polite, mon amor. Here's your coffee." Francis leaned over the counter, and pecked a kiss onto Arthur's seething forehead./p  
Arthur took the coffee abruptly from Francis and spun around. Just before the door closed behind him, Francis called out, "Have a nice day, mon ange! I'll see you later."

Arthur's face turned red with rage, yes rage, that's what it was, not embarrassment, desire, or godforbid, love! "Piss off you sodding bastard!" He snarled. And it was most definitely disgust that made his stomach do it a flip when Arthur saw a new nickname on the cup. "Iggy" complete with another little heart dotting the i.

* * *

* I say this in a totally inoffensive way. I think somebody said this was British slang for a cigarette, but I don't know if I'm correct or not, so if someone could correct me in the comments below that would be great

And of course, thanks to everyone who reads =)


End file.
